


Tease

by sharkie335



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Drugged Sex, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-21
Updated: 2010-09-21
Packaged: 2017-10-12 01:51:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/119466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sharkie335/pseuds/sharkie335
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Christ, Rodney, remind me to get you drunk sometime."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tease

**Author's Note:**

> lavvyan asked for drugged sex, and wesleysgirl asked for Rodney having alcohol on top of antihistamines. This is the result.

Rodney sipped at his drink cautiously, but it didn't taste like anything much. Its violent orange coloring had given him pause, but there was no tang of citrus to it, no burn that heralded a reaction. It didn't taste like water, either, but it quenched his thirst, so he took a much bigger gulp, then finished it all in one fell swoop. Filling the glass from the pitcher on the table, he started to drink again, as dinner had been very salty. "Are you enjoying the mikajo?" Unina asked, and Rodney nodded.

"It's very different," Rodney said. "Is it a fruit juice?"

"Oh, yes," Unina answered. "It comes from the eikich plant, and then we ferment it, but only briefly. Too long and it becomes too strong to drink."

Setting down the cup carefully, Rodney said, "Did you say it's fermented?" When Unina nodded, Rodney swore silently. He was fucked. Standing up, he was unsurprised when the room swayed. Oh, fuck. "Excuse me," he said, and went to look for his team.

Thankfully, John was the first person he found. "Um, Colonel? We might have a little problem."

John looked up from the card game that he was obviously losing. "What is it, Rodney? I thought Unina was keeping you out of trouble."

"Remember my allergies? The ones that act up every time we come to this planet?" John nodded, clearly puzzled. "Well, Carson gave me some antihistamines to prevent them this time around."

"I thought you'd been sneezing less," John interrupted.

"Sneezing less, yes. But you do know that you shouldn't mix them with alcohol, right?" And then Rodney waited for the shoe to drop.

"You didn't," John said.

"I did, I'm afraid. And rather a lot of it. In my defense, it didn't _taste_ like alcohol, so how was I to know?" Rodney started to pace, his hands waving. "It's not like it was in a pitcher labeled, 'Don't drink if you can't have booze.'"

The men that John had been playing with watched this with great amusement, and one of them broke in, "Is there a problem, Colonel Sheppard? If he's talking about the mikajo, it's very mild. Difficult to get drunk on it, unless you're trying."

John pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. "I'm sure it is, Toma, but Doctor McKay has taken some medication that means he shouldn't drink alcohol at all. They don't combine well." Turning to Rodney, he said, "Do we need to head back to the 'gate?"

Just then, the room pitched dizzily, and Rodney groped for something to lean on, hand landing on the back of a chair. "It's rather too late for that, I think." Vaguely, he heard John talking urgently to Toma, and then gentle hands took some of his weight, encouraging him to walk. It was difficult to do - Rodney seemed to have a problem remembering that it was one foot after another - but eventually they stopped. Low voices again, and then he was lowered onto a soft surface that yielded under his weight. "Colonel?"

"It's okay, Rodney, I've got you." Hands, oh hands were on his legs, and he felt the tug of someone - John? - pulling off one of his boots, then the other. "Why don't you take a little nap?"

Rodney giggled. At some level, he knew that he should be embarrassed to sound like that, but most of his brain was taken up with how cool it felt to do it, so he giggled again. "Not sleepy." From somewhere, he managed to get the strength to sit up, and oh! There was John, sitting on the foot of the bed. "Are we alone, Colonel?"

Slowly, at least, Rodney thought it was slowly, John nodded. "They're going to put us up overnight. Toma went to tell Teyla and Ronon."

"Good." And then Rodney launched himself in John's general direction, counting on John to catch him before he hit the floor. He did, of course, and Rodney found himself halfway in John's lap, looking up at his face. "Wanna fool around?"

"Whoa, hold on there, Rodney." John pushed him back up on the bed, and Rodney couldn't stop the pout. "What happened to 'No sex on missions?' I thought we agreed that it was too risky?"

"Oh, come on. The Rodh are allies. What could happen?" Rodney crawled back into John's lap, rubbing his groin against John's. "Besides, I'm really, really horny."

John resisted for another few seconds, then sighed and kissed him, closed mouthed and chaste. "Rodney, we _shouldn't_." Firm hands tried to push Rodney back on to the bed, but Rodney clung tightly, feeling the answering bulge in John's pants.

"Oh, come on, John. It's just the two of us, and I really want to feel your big cock in my ass. Want you to fuck me nice and slow until neither of us can stand it anymore, then I want you to fuck me hard and fast, so that I'll feel it tomorrow." Rodney buried his face in John's neck, licking and worrying the skin where it smelled so good.

Breathing fast, John pulled back, trying to catch Rodney's eye, but Rodney lunged forward again, only to whine embarrassingly when he was restrained by John's hands. "We really shouldn't," he began, but since Rodney couldn't reach John's neck, he started fondling John's nipples and John swore, "Oh, fuck it. If you want me to fuck you, you need to take your clothes off."

Clumsily, Rodney climbed off John's lap and stood still while the room rocked around him. "Are you okay?" John asked, but Rodney just nodded and started to undress, pulling his shirt over his head. When he slipped off his pants, he was grateful that John had already taken his shoes off because he didn't think he could have handled that. As soon as his pants dropped, he tried to step forward, only to get tangled in them and trip.

Thankfully, John was standing close by, and he caught Rodney before he could fall on his face. "I don't think this is a good idea, Rodney. You can barely stand."

Clinging to John, Rodney stepped out of his pants and then let go. Two steps and then he faceplanted on the bed. Squirming around, he managed to flip over on his back. "Don't need to stand for you to fuck me."

John stood there a moment more, chewing his lip. Then, shaking his head, he started to climb up on the bed so that he was straddling Rodney's legs. "This is a bad idea."

Rodney didn't answer him. Instead, he fisted his hand in John's hair and dragged him down for a deep, wet, _messy_ kiss. John tasted so good that Rodney couldn't help moaning into it. When he finally released John's hair, John didn't sit up. Instead, he propped himself on one arm and continued to kiss Rodney until they were both breathless.

Without moving away from John's mouth, Rodney spread his legs, wrapping them around John's waist and rocking their cocks together. John broke the kiss with a groan, dropping his head so that he could rest his forehead on Rodney's shoulder. "Christ, Rodney. That's good."

"Uh, huh," Rodney said. "Want you to fuck me. Now, John." He squirmed under John, trying to get his cock where he wanted it, but John wasn't cooperating, instead pulling away and kneeling up. "Hey! Where are you going?"

"I need slick. Can't fuck you without something," John was busy peering around the room, obviously trying to find something they could use as lube.

"I don't care. Use spit if you have to. Just, please." Rodney couldn't ever remember being this horny, this desperate to be fucked. But John ignored him, pulling free of his legs and standing up, going into the small bathroom.

Aching to be filled, Rodney did the only thing he could. He sucked two of his fingers into his mouth, getting them good and wet. Spreading his legs wide, Rodney slid them into his hole, groaning at the stretch and fullness.

"Rodney, you o-" John came back out of the bathroom. "Jesus!" Rodney turned his head to look at John, who was standing stock still next to the bathroom. He didn't stop fingering himself, moving lazily and breathing heavily. It felt good, even if it wasn't as good as John's cock. After a moment, the paralysis that had possessed John seemed to break, and he started to move towards their stuff with a purpose. "Don't stop, Rodney."

"Wasn't going to." Rodney pressed even deeper, even though it meant turning his hand at an awkward angle. John had picked up Rodney's TAC vest and was going through it frantically.

"Where is it? You never leave Atlantis without - ah ha!" Victorious, John turned back to Rodney, holding up a small tube. Rodney couldn't help the laugh that bubbled over at the look on John's face.

Two steps, and John was back on the bed, crawling up between his legs. Rodney started to slide his fingers out of his ass, but John said, "Don't. Keep fingering yourself. I want to watch you get ready for me." Rodney moaned and started fingering himself harder, small grunts escaping with every press inward. When he went to add a third finger, though, John grabbed his hand and pulled it out. Rodney had a moment to think that he was going to get fucked now, but all John did was spread some of his sunscreen on his fingers. Frustrated, Rodney said, "John - "

But John interrupted him. "Please, Rodney? It's really fucking hot to watch," and he looked so hopeful that Rodney couldn't find the heart to deny him. Instead, he slid three fingers into his ass, pressing as deep as he could, feeling how hot and soft he inside. Without thinking about it, his other hand started circling one of his nipples, making it stand up tight on his chest, and John gasped. Opening eyes he didn't realize that he'd closed, he saw that John had his hand on his cock and was jerking himself frantically.

"Hey, no!" Rodney said, and John froze, hand still in place. "You wanted the show, you watch and don't touch. _That's_ mine, and you're going to fuck me when you finally give up this pretense of not wanting to."

"It's not that I don't want to, Rodney. It's that it's a really, really bad idea." Rodney barely acknowledged the stupidity spilling out of John's mouth. He was too focused on teasing the edge of his hole with his pinkie and wondering if he could take four fingers. The thought turned him on and scared the hell out him, but another look at John's face made him figure what the hell, and he tried to slide his pinkie in.

He couldn't get very far, but it didn't matter, since John's eyes were blown wide by the attempt. He smirked at him, guessing what he was thinking, and John finally choked out, "Fine, I'll fuck you."

Rodney grinned and says, "I wouldn't want to put you out or anything."

"Dammit, Rodney," John gritted out, eyes narrowing. Rodney got the message and slid his fingers out of his ass. As soon as he did, John climbed up his body, pushing Rodney's legs up and back. As John breached him, Rodney groaned and squirmed. _Much_ better than fingers.

Except that unlike his fingers, John was a _goddamn tease_ , barely fucking him. He was moving, but it was slow and shallow, and in this position, Rodney couldn't push back. "Oh, fuck, John, please," Rodney pleaded.

John adjusted Rodney's legs, pressing him even further into the bed, and went a little deeper, just enough to tease at Rodney's prostate. Rodney tried to reach John to pull him down, pull him deeper, but he couldn't with the way that he was already being pressed in half. Instead, he clenched his hole, trying to break John before John broke him.

Groaning, John slid in a little bit before he recovered. "Christ, Rodney, remind me to get you drunk sometime."

Rodney blinked. What the hell? "Do I - do we need to talk about this now?"

Without answering him, John slammed into him hard, once, twice, then pulled most of the way out and _stayed there_ , the bastard. "I think so, yes. If you're this desperate for it when you're a little stoned, I can only imagine what you'd be like drunk."

"Fine, fine, we can talk about it at home, but now would you please _fuck me_?"

John grinned down at him and slid in, nice and deep, even if it was way too slow. "All you had to do was ask nicely." Rodney couldn't get his mouth to work, so he just glared at John, clutching at his arms as John's cock pressed hard against his prostate.

Finally, he seemed to get the message, because John started to move faster, a little harder. Rodney writhed as much as he was able to, given that he was speared on John's dick, and that got the point across even better, because John seemed to have to fight to keep the pace even. "Thought you wanted me fuck you slow."

"I lied. I totally lied. I want you to fuck me hard," Rodney panted out, frantic for it now.

"But maybe I _want_ to fuck you slow. You never let me, and right now you can't fight me. All you can do is lie there and take it." John looked strained, though, and when Rodney whimpered, John clenched his hands on Rodney's legs.

Rodney thought he was going to get his way, but then John stopped and pulled out. Rodney cried out at the sudden emptiness. John didn't relent, though, instead grabbing one hip and tugging. "Turn over, Rodney."

Clumsily, Rodney turned, resting his head on his crossed arms and lifting his ass up. John massaged his cheeks for a moment, and then slid back into him, nice and deep, and yeah, this was a much better angle. Every stroke rubbed right over Rodney's prostate, and it was almost enough to forget that John was moving slow enough to make him scream.

His hands were tight enough on his hips to leave bruises, and while Rodney would have denied it usually, he was whining continuously. There was no stimulation of his dick at all, and if John was going any slower, he'd be going backwards. Rodney did the only thing he could, clenching down hard and working at it to stay tight around John's dick.

John moaned, and John's hands tightened, but eventually it worked, and John started to fuck hard and fast, rocking Rodney in place. "God, oh, god, Rodney, feels so good."

"Please, fuck, touch my dick," Rodney whimpered. It felt good - no, _great_ \- but it wasn't enough to get him off. Then John reached around him, fingers curling around his cock and giving a tight, hot place to fuck, and Rodney wasn't going to last much longer.

With a choked sob, Rodney let his orgasm rip through him, like electricity, frying his nerves. All he wanted was to collapse, but John was pounding into him, and he didn't want it to end. Somehow, he managed to stay up until John came with a harsh cry, and then he collapsed into a puddle.

John followed him down, landing on one side and resting his head on the point of Rodney's shoulder. Gradually, Rodney's breathing steadied out, and the last thing he remembered before he fell asleep was John saying softly, "I am _so_ getting you drunk."


End file.
